


Under the Mistletoe

by Poetgirl925



Category: Smallville
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Romance, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:03:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6317584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poetgirl925/pseuds/Poetgirl925
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chloe gets stranded in New York for the holidays, she's surprised to run into Oliver at the airport and accepts when he invites her to stay with him. Snowed in at the Waldorf, they both let down their guard and realize they may not be so alone in the world as they sometimes think they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Chloe shifted her bag from one shoulder to the other as she waited with the other passengers at the departure gate for news of available flights. It was Christmas Eve morning and after her plane was diverted to La Guardia in New York, she learned that snowstorms across the eastern seaboard and the South had grounded a lot of planes.

For the first time in several years, she'd made a plan to visit her father, Gabe, for the holidays. He was living in Raleigh now, and he'd remarried. Chloe had kept her distance for a reason since her life was anything but safe. However, when Gabe called and asked her to come and get to know his new family, she'd been unable to say no. Truthfully, she missed her dad and she hated that their relationship had become so strained.

There were just so many things she couldn't tell him. She couldn't tell him that her mother was still alive and living in a long term care facility in Star City, thanks to Oliver's generosity. Gabe thought Moira had disappeared long ago, and it was better for everyone if he continued to believe that. He’d obtained a divorce in absentia and moved on with his life.  

He knew Chloe had graduated from Metropolis University, though she'd chosen not to walk at the ceremony in order to have an excuse for why she didn't ask him to come. He knew she had been hired as a junior reporter for The Daily Planet, and he knew that she had a boyfriend named Jimmy.

The longer list was what he didn’t know – that after discovering she was meteor infected, she'd begun counseling other meteor infected people at the center that Lana opened before moving to Europe. He had no idea that her childhood friend was an alien or that she moonlighted for the Green Arrow and his merry band of heroes. He wasn't aware that she'd said yes when Jimmy asked her to marry him, or that their engagement had self-destructed months ago due to all of the secrets she had to keep.

He didn’t know that her relationship with Clark had become distant since she and Jimmy broke up, mostly because Jimmy was spending a lot of time with Clark's cousin, Kara. She wasn't asking Clark to choose sides exactly, but she also didn't think it was too much to ask that she get equal support in the situation.

Chloe had been feeling emotionally worn down for months, and her father's invitation had been a little light in an otherwise bleak holiday season. Now it looked like she was going to be stranded alone in New York for the holiday.

When the attendant came back, the look on her face confirmed Chloe’s suspicions before she made her announcement. The crowd pushed forward. Some people asked questions while others complained bitterly about their canceled holiday plans. With a sigh, Chloe took her place in the line. Vouchers were being passed out, which caused another round of complaints when people saw which economy motel was being offered.  

“I’m sorry, but it’s one of the few motels with vacancies,” the attendant said, her eyes never leaving her computer screen.

“Oh no. They have that noisy factory next door, and the bedding is gross,” one woman said as she juggled her bag and a whimpering baby. She looked at her husband. “You remember, right? The springs were poking through the mattress, there were holes in the sheets, and that blood stain…”

Grimacing, Chloe pulled out her phone and started searching vacancies in hostels, hotels and motels within a ten mile radius of the airport.

“Chloe?”

She glanced up in surprise at the familiar voice. “Oliver? What are you doing here?” Based on the suit he was wearing, she assumed he was there on business.  

“I had a few meetings in New York this week,” he answered. “What about you?”

“I was covering the Wayne Enterprises conference in Boston. After it was over I stayed to run down a couple of story leads,” she said. “I was supposed to visit my dad in Raleigh, but my flight was rerouted. Now it looks like no one’s having a holly jolly Christmas.”

“They’re saying this is going to be quite a storm. My guess is we’ll be snowed in for a few days,” Oliver said. His gaze shifted to the people in the line, who were still arguing with the attendant over available accommodations. “Hotels are booked up, huh?”

“Travelers are getting off the roads, too. There’s a hostel near here that might be a little better than what the airline has left.”

“Or you could just stay with me,” he offered. “My assistant booked the Presidential Suite at the Waldorf a few minutes ago.”

Of course Oliver could get the Presidential Suite on such short notice on a major holiday. She wondered if it had been empty or if they’d moved someone to another suite in order to accommodate one of the world’s wealthiest CEOs.

Chloe looked at the photos on her phone again. The hostel would be fine though probably very lacking in Christmas cheer. “I’ll be okay at the hostel. I don’t want to put you out.”

“Chloe, you’d be keeping me company, not putting me out. It’s Christmas Eve – I’m not leaving you alone at the airport or dropping you off at some crappy hostel.” When she still hesitated, he added, “I guarantee that the suite will be decorated for Christmas. You’ll have your own bedroom and bathroom, and the restaurant has some of the best food in the city.”

Well, that settled it. Chloe smiled and shook her head. “Okay, okay. I admit it sounds better than sharing a room with a stranger or fighting over bathroom privileges.” She noticed the two women ahead of her had been listening in and were now looking at her with envious expressions. Even if they didn’t recognize Oliver, he was still a handsome man saving her from economy motel hell and whisking her off to the Waldorf with promises of Christmas decorations, private suites and gourmet dining. In this situation, the only thing missing was his white horse.

She allowed him to take her carryon bag, and they began walking towards the exit.

“Any other luggage?” he asked.

“No. You?”

“My crew already took my luggage to the car,” he said, confirming he was traveling on his private jet.

The car turned out to be an SUV that would withstand the weather conditions much better than a limo. Oliver greeted his personal driver as Chloe slid into the back. She nearly moaned out loud at the plush, heated leather seats. There was also a blanket, and she wasted no time wrapping herself up like a burrito.

Oliver followed a couple of minutes later. He grinned when he saw her. “Warm enough there, Sidekick?”

“The rich really do live different lives, and I’m one hundred percent okay with that right now,” she told him. “I’d offer to share the blanket, but I dread unwrapping.”

“I don’t really feel the cold as much as you do, anyway. Muscle mass,” he reminded her. “I’m more than happy to share body heat if it comes to that.”

Chloe bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at his flirtatious tone. “Down, Romeo.”

Oliver had been flirting with her for months. Their banter had become such an intrinsic part of their relationship that she wasn’t even sure when it had started. She felt another surge of heat when he reached out and tucked her blanket a bit more snugly around her legs, squeezing her knee briefly.

When he pulled out his phone and called the hotel, she was surprised to hear him requesting that the suite be decorated for Christmas.

“Any color preferences?” he asked her. When she shook her head, he asked that they use a complementary color scheme before disconnecting the call.

She raised a brow. “I thought you said the rooms are already decorated for Christmas.”

“No, I said I could guarantee the suite would be decorated for Christmas,” he corrected her. “With this traffic, it will take us more than an hour to get there. It’ll be done by then.”

“I mean, you aren’t just doing it for me, right? You don’t have to go to any extra trouble, Oliver. I’m happy enough just not being alone.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. The last thing she wanted was to sound like she was indulging in a pity party. When she looked over at Oliver, he was staring at her thoughtfully.

“No Clark Express to get you home in time for eggnog and carols around the tree?” He kept his voice low so that the driver couldn’t hear.  

Chloe shrugged and looked away. “He and Kara are visiting Martha in Washington, and Lois and Lucy are there with Uncle Sam. I can’t just arrive in Raleigh now that the flights are grounded, so…”

She waited for him to state the obvious – that she could join her family in Washington if she really wanted to. It wouldn’t take Clark long to come for her, after all, and she doubted her uncle would question how she’d arrived since the D.C. airports had just closed that morning. But last she heard, Jimmy was going to stay there with Kara for a few days before going to see his family. Chloe had a feeling that her presence would just make things uncomfortable, and now that Lois and Clark were dating, there’d be no way to avoid the group gathering.

“To answer your question, I don’t usually bother with decorating just for me,” he admitted. “I go to mass and I light a candle for my parents, and then I jet off somewhere warm until New Year’s.”

“Where to this year?” she asked curiously. She wondered if he’d planned to invite someone to join him.

“Hawaii,” he said. “Ever been?”

“Yeah, I’ve barely left Kansas,” she replied, laughing. “Maybe one day.”

“Feel free to tag along,” he said.

His offer surprised her. “I’m sure you’re meeting people, though, right?”

He shrugged. “Not really. There will be people there that I know, and I’ve received a few party invites, but I feel like keeping it low key this year.”

Low key wasn’t how she’d describe Oliver under most circumstances, but she kept that thought to herself as she wondered what had been going on with him lately. Between moving out of the dorms after graduating in June and settling into her tiny new apartment, not to mention ending things with Jimmy, she’d had less time to spend on JL related projects.

She’d hit the ground running on assignments given to her by her editor, Perry White, and she scored her first front page article in September. Oliver sent flowers and a congratulatory note, and she helped out with a mission in October, but she hadn’t seen or spoken to him since then.

“I haven’t heard much from you lately. All quiet or is business just keeping you busy?”

“A little of both. Victor is keeping an eye on a couple of things, but I’ve been knee deep in paperwork lately. These meetings in New York were to finalize my purchase of Cooperton Electronics.”

“I read about that,” she said. “So, Cooperton is officially under the Queen umbrella now?”

“All done,” he confirmed. “Old Cooperton drove a hard bargain, and I admit I let him have a little fun with it since it was his last negotiation. It’s really a shame his son wasn’t interested in the family business.”

That sounded like Oliver. She knew he had a lot of respect for self-made men like Cooperton, and she bet they both had a little fun with the negotiation. When she heard a beeping noise coming from her bag, she reluctantly pulled one of her hands free from the blanket and pulled her phone out. She smiled when she saw the message from Lois.

_Lois: Merry Christmas! Wish you were here! Tell Uncle Gabe I said hello._

She tapped out a holiday greeting of her own and slipped the phone back into her bag. Her fingers brushed against Oliver’s hand as she moved her bag over.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about being cold.” He grasped her hand before she could move it back under the blankets and held it between his much larger ones. “You need some of those hand warmers I use in the field.”

She watched as he rubbed her hand briskly. She definitely felt a lot warmer now. When he let go and motioned for her other one, she switched hands without even a token protest. “People who don’t feel the cold aren’t normal.”

“It’s all about body mass and blood circulation. Better?”

She nodded and pulled away from him, pausing when he ran his thumb over her bare ring finger. But he released her without comment, and she wrapped her hands back in the blanket. She wasn’t even sure if he’d heard about her engagement, so she’d never mentioned it being called off. She wondered how he found out.

“I saw Lois the last time I was in Metropolis,” he said. “She said that you and Jimmy were engaged but called it off.”

Chloe shrugged and looked out the window. They were moving at a slow crawl, bumper to bumper on the slick roads leading back into the city. “It’s for the best. There’s a lot I can’t tell him, and we argued a lot about my work at ISIS. The real irony is that he’s sort of dating Kara now. I’m not sure that has a better shot all things considered.”

“Realistically I’d say no. But I guess that explains why you don’t want to go to D.C.”

“He’s there with her,” she confirmed. “I don’t think it’s too serious yet, but I’m not looking to be the awkward tagalong since Lucy brought her new boyfriend.”

“I can understand that.”

She thought about the headlines she often saw – Oliver at parties and business functions, usually with a different woman on his arm each time. “Yeah, I’m sure you’d know all about being the awkward tagalong,” she muttered, unable to hide the sarcastic edge to her tone.

“I know a little something about being alone. You more than anyone know how deceiving the tabloids can be.”

It wasn’t a self-pitying statement, but she felt a pang of guilt over her snarky tone. She turned towards him and sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just… out of sorts lately. I don’t even begrudge Kara and Jimmy spending time together because it was my decision to call off our engagement. I still care about him. I always will. But not enough, if that makes sense.” She had to admit Lois was right about that.

“I get it.”

He didn’t elaborate, but she guessed he was thinking of how he and Lois had called it quits. He’d been the one to walk away the first time, and it was Lois’ decision after she found out he was the Green Arrow. Later, Lois said that they were better as friends and there didn’t seem to be any bitter feelings between them now. Since Chloe knew they sometimes met for lunch when Oliver was in Metropolis, she assumed Oliver felt the same way.

Rather than going through the main lobby when they arrived at the Towers, they were met by hotel staff in the private garage. Chloe held onto her laptop and handbag but left her suitcase with Oliver’s luggage as she followed him to the private elevator. There was no check-in, meaning his assistant had likely handled that as well.

“Is your assistant here?” she asked curiously. Chloe had met the woman once a few months ago, when she stopped at his office to pick up a flash drive.

He shook his head. “My business meetings were finished three days ago. I wanted to go over a few things with my VPs here at the New York office before I left, but I sent her back yesterday so she could be with her family today. She’s been handling things by phone this morning.”

The Presidential Suite was on the 35th floor of the Towers, and Chloe tried not to stare in awe as they entered the suite. The foyer alone was half the size of her apartment. Just as Oliver promised, the suite was tastefully decorated for the holidays, with one tree in the foyer and another in the main living room. 

The manager was there to personally greet Oliver and assure them that they were fully prepared for the storm. The porter arrived with their luggage and disappeared down the hall, where she assumed the bedrooms were located. Within minutes he was back and Oliver walked with them to the door.

Chloe wandered around the living room. She was almost afraid to touch anything because it all looked expensive, from the artwork to the Georgian style furnishings. A small plaque on the blue upholstered rocking chair near the fireplace caught her attention – it had once belonged to John F. Kennedy. She ran a tentative finger across the fabric.

“You can sit in it. It won’t break.”

She turned to look at Oliver. “Have you stayed here before?”

He nodded as he joined her. “A couple of times. It’s not really my first choice. It’s too big for one person, and I prefer a more modern design. But I like the history of this place – presidents have stayed here, and they’ve all donated items, from this rocking chair to the wall sconces and some of the books.”

She’d noticed the photos of presidents lining the walls in the foyer. She could probably spend a few hours just looking at everything in the large suite. “Don’t you have an apartment in New York?”

“I do. It’s being renovated, so I stayed in an executive suite near the Queen Industries offices this week. But if I’m going to be snowed in, I’d rather have access to hotel amenities, and St. Patrick’s is close by.”

Chloe followed Oliver through the suite as he gave her the tour. The living room was formal but the sofas looked comfortable. There were plenty of books to choose from, many of which seemed to be first editions, and there was a flat screen television. The dining room was painfully formal, as were the bedrooms with their crystal chandeliers. Still, she'd be weathering the storm in comfort, and she wouldn't be facing the next few days alone.

Oliver left her in her private suite to freshen up. Since she’d probably be there for a couple of days, she unpacked her small suitcase and put away her clothes before placing her toiletries in the bathroom. She eyed the tub appreciatively, grateful that she’d be able to have a hot bath later. There were plenty of soft towels, and the marble countertops held candles and Guerlain spa products.

In the bedroom she sat on the bed and then fell back with a moan of pleasure. She hadn’t slept well this week due to a lumpy hotel room mattress. That wasn’t going to be a problem here - the mattress felt like a dream, and the linens were of the highest thread count. There were fresh orchids on each nightstand, and she lay quietly for a few minutes until the tension began to drain away.

When she went in search of Oliver, she found him in the kitchen. He was peering into the refrigerator, which looked like it had been fully stocked. He’d also changed out of his suit and was now dressed much more casually in jeans, a white button down shirt, and a brown leather jacket.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, looking up as she entered. “They stocked the kitchen for us but I was thinking we could go downstairs for brunch and stay in tonight.”

“That’s fine,” she replied. She’d also changed clothes, opting for a nicer pair of jeans and her favorite plum colored sweater that brought out the color of her eyes. It wasn't designer but she thought she'd blend in well enough.

They had brunch in the Peacock Alley Restaurant downstairs off the main lobby. Under ordinary circumstances she’d insist on paying, but there was no way her budget could withstand the hit of Waldorf restaurant prices, and she didn’t want to be weird about something she knew was no big deal for Oliver. While she started with mini bagels and cream cheese, she couldn’t help being tempted by the delicious aroma of Oliver’s lobster bisque.

Noticing her interest, he smiled. “Tell you what – you hand over a couple of those mini bagels and I’ll share my soup.”

They sat closely together in the private booth, sharing food and talking. It was surprisingly intimate but not awkward. After finishing her eggs benedict and a small portion of the famed Waldorf salad, she refilled her coffee cup and eyed the dark chocolate fountain that had been calling her name since she walked in.

What the hell – it’s not like she’d ever pretended to be like any of the delicate, willowy women that hung off Oliver’s arm in the society pages. Chloe put a selection of fruit on a plate and added a small dish of the chocolate before rejoining Oliver at the table.

Using her dessert fork to spear a strawberry slice, she dipped it in the chocolate and held it out to Oliver. When he shook his head, she shrugged and popped the bite into her mouth. She felt a bit of the chocolate on her upper lip and licked it off.

Oliver was staring at her, a strange expression on his face.

Thinking she had more chocolate on her mouth, she licked her lips again. “Are you sure you don’t want any?”

“No, I’m good,” he said.

He signaled the waiter and requested more coffee and a newspaper, which he read while Chloe finished her fruit. They lingered over coffee and shared sections of the newspaper, discussing everything from current events to business.

When they got back to the room, Oliver walked over to the window. It had begun to snow, and the wind whistled and howled through the alleys below, but the full force of the storm wasn’t expected to hit until later that night.

“I think it’s better if I go the church now, before the weather gets worse,” Oliver said.

“Okay.”

He went to his room and returned with a heavy coat and gloves.

“Do you…” she paused, wondering if she was overstepping. “I could come with you.”

He smiled at her. “I’d like that.”

***

Chloe walked quietly around the chapel, admiring the architecture and the beautiful stained glass windows that filtered the winter sunlight. Oliver was still at the front. He’d lit his candle and had been standing there for the past ten minutes with a photo of his parents. He didn’t speak, but she felt certain he was talking to them.

She sat in one of the pews and waited. A few minutes later, he joined her.

“I know the holidays must be hard for you,” she said gently. “I don’t want to pry but if you need to talk, I’m here.”

“Thanks,” he said. “It’s better than it used to be, but yeah – it’s always been hard without them. Sometimes I just wonder what they would think of what I’ve done. Of what my life is like now.”

“You’re a good man, Oliver, one who’s done a lot for people. I’m sure that they’d be really proud of you.”

Oliver reached out and took her hand. Her stomach squirmed when he laced their fingers together.

“They would have liked you,” he told her. “Thanks for coming with me.”

Chloe smiled at him. “You’re welcome.”

They stopped at St. Bartholomew’s on the way back to the hotel. The church ran a women’s shelter and a soup kitchen, and Chloe realized it wasn’t Oliver's first visit as she listened to him speaking with the director.

"We really appreciate the donations, Mr. Queen." Mrs. Nelson was a no nonsense woman in her fifties, but like most women, she seemed to soften around Oliver, and she was smiling at him fondly.

"Do you have everything you need?" Oliver asked. "We'll probably all be snowed in for a couple of days, at least. I'm happy to send a driver to pick up additional supplies while the roads are still passable."

"I would really appreciate that," Mrs. Nelson told him. "I was making a list before you arrived so I could figure out how to ration everything. We're completely full – we don't even have enough cots for everyone."

When Oliver raised a brow in her direction, Chloe nodded to let him know she was fine on her own for a few minutes. She walked down the hall to a large, open room that had been filled with cots. Several volunteers were passing out blankets and helping those who had just arrived to settle in.

"We usually deal more with women who are escaping abusive situations, but because of the storm, we're taking overflow from some of the other shelters," one of the women explained when Chloe asked how she could help. "We're still trying to separate them as best we can, grouping women with children together. If you could just walk around and make sure they've all signed my list and that we have their dependents listed, that would be great. It's going to be a tight fit and we'll have to ration supplies pretty carefully."

Chloe did as she asked, walking around the room and speaking with each woman, noting dependents and any medical issues as they talked. One woman named Meg looked on the verge of a panic attack, and Chloe sat with her the longest. She was only a couple of years older than Chloe. She had a baby that couldn't have been more than a month old, and her other two children, Ben and Anna, were two and six.

Chloe was finished listing the new arrivals, so she sat in the floor and played a game with the two older children while Meg breast fed the fussy infant, who finally calmed down. Ben was now sitting in Chloe's lap while she braided Anna's hair.

"There," Chloe told the little girl. Pulling a small mirror from her bag, she handed it over. "Better?"

"Thanks, Miss Chloe," she said, her expression a little shy.

"You're welcome," Chloe replied softly. When she looked up, she saw Oliver leaning against the door frame, smiling at her.

The kids moved back a little warily when they noticed who she was looking at. "That's my friend, Oliver. Don't worry. He's really nice."

Oliver approached slowly, careful to keep a healthy distance. She also noticed that he'd relaxed his posture – she supposed it was a way of making himself seem as unthreatening as possible. "We should probably get going, Chloe. The roads are getting worse."

"Okay," she said. Turning back to Meg, she hesitated. Then she pulled one of her cards from her bag. "Metropolis is a long way from New York, Meg. If you decide you really want a fresh start, I'll do what I can to help."

Meg pressed her lips together uncertainly, her eyes darting between Chloe and Oliver. After a moment she took the card. "Thank you."

When Anna held out the mirror, Chloe shook her head. "You can keep it."

"Will you come back when it stops snowing?" Anna asked.

"Anna…" Meg began, looking embarrassed.

"No, it's okay," Chloe assured her. "I'm not sure how long I'll be in New York, but I promise to come see you again, at least once, when the storm is over." She patted Ben's head and smiled at them again before walking over to join Oliver.

Once they were outside in the car, she said, "Please tell me that they're going to have enough supplies to get through the storm because I'm suddenly feeling really guilty about my king size bed and marble tub."

"They'll have what they need and then some," he confirmed. "The drivers are already on their way back – food, blankets, and a few Christmas surprises for the kids."

She sighed in relief.

"Do you think she'll actually contact you?" Oliver asked curiously.

"I don't know. She's only two years older than me – no education, no job, an ex-con husband who just got of jail a year ago and is probably headed back soon. I felt like I needed to try, if that makes sense."

"Chloe Sullivan, out to save the world," Oliver said. He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

"Look who's talking," she told him with a laugh.

Back in their suite, Chloe finally got through to Gabe and explained that she was stuck in New York but that he shouldn't worry since she was with a friend. Then they prepared dinner together – pan seared salmon fillets with jasmine rice and fresh salad. Chloe was surprised to see a fruit plate and some of the chocolate from the fondue fountain when she went to get the wine from the fridge.

"I could tell you liked it," Oliver said when she asked him about it.

After dinner they cleaned up and Chloe went to take a bath. The marble tub was a slice of heaven, and she soaked until her fingers started pruning up. Wishing she'd brought the new satin pajama and robe set Lois gave her as an early Christmas gift, she eyed the fresh pajamas the staff had laundered and delivered back to her room while they were away.

Oliver was on the sofa, flipping channels in search of a movie when Chloe came back out wearing her Star Wars pajamas. The matching pants, camisole and hoodie were light purple and featured a dark Sith lord wearing a sleeping cap and carrying a cup of coffee. Paired with her bunny slippers, she felt confident it was a first for the Presidential Suite.

Not bothering to hide his grin when he saw her, Oliver read the words on her hoodie. "I woke up on the dark side of the bed, huh? I think you're onto something with Star Wars and bunny slippers though."

"You're just jealous that your pajamas aren't as cool as mine," she replied with a raised brow. She walked over to the window and stared out at the lights of the city piercing the darkness. The street lamps illuminated the swirling snow that now blanketed the streets and sidewalks outside. When she felt Oliver walk up behind her, she said, "Hey, Ollie? Thanks. I'm glad I'm not alone."

He squeezed her shoulder. "I should be thanking you because this day has been a lot more enjoyable with you here, trust me. Ready for that movie? I found a Christmas marathon if you're interested."

She nodded and followed him back to the sofa.

**A/N – I found this fic when I was looking for my flashback files for Into the Dark, which I plan to update later this week. I'm not sure exactly when I wrote it, but I think it must have been a while ago since it's a Christmas fic and I really don't remember it. Based on the word count, I think it'll be 3 chapters, so it's a short one. And it's finished, so I'll post the next part in a couple of days after I read over it. Hope you enjoy it!**


	2. Chapter 2

A low, steady sound jolted Oliver awake. He blinked at the television, surprised that he’d fallen asleep on the sofa while watching movies with Chloe. The Christmas marathon was over, now replaced by an old comedy show. The laugh track was what woke him – that and a warm weight against his left side. Turning his head, he smiled when he saw Chloe curled against him, sleeping peacefully.

The room was lit only by the cheerful, twinkling lights of the Christmas tree in the corner by the window, and they cast a glow upon her that made her look almost ethereal. He’d never seen her like this – fresh faced, hair mussed, and dressed for bed. Even though her pajamas were loungewear as opposed to lingerie, the combined effect softened her. In this moment she wasn’t Chloe Sullivan, star reporter, best friend to the Blur, or Watchtower to a team of heroes. She was just a young woman. A very pretty one.

It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed that Chloe was beautiful, but the attraction had become harder to ignore in recent months. He’d found himself staring at her at least half a dozen times throughout the day. He noticed things now that he hadn’t paid attention to before, such as how small and delicate her hands were, or the way she pressed her lips together when she tried to hide her amusement.

He could pinpoint the moment when he realized something had changed. Though he preferred to keep her out of the field after what happened with Dinah, he’d recognized early on what a valuable resource she was. He approached Chloe about helping out with team research, and whenever he was patrolling in Metropolis, he allowed her to guide him to the city hotspots. He could patrol without her, of course, but her assistance streamlined his approach to crime fighting and as a businessman, efficiency appealed to him. That her quick-witted commentary appealed to him for other reasons was just a bonus.

Everything had gone smoothly until the night he ran across a back alley drug deal going down two blocks over from Isis. What he thought was a group of four turned out to be twice that number, and he’d been well on his way to getting his ass kicked when Chloe arrived, armed with a couple of stun guns and a sonic weapon she’d been testing with Dinah and Victor.

She’d pointed the sonic weapon at three of the gang leaders, shattering windows as they dropped to their knees before losing consciousness. Two others turned their guns on her, which galvanized Oliver. Forgetting his aching ribs, he leapt to her defense. Between the two of them the other gangbangers were swiftly dealt with and waiting for the police, who arrived on the scene moments after he ziplined them out of the alley.

Seeing guns pointed at her had scared him, which made him angry, and they argued when they got back to Isis.

_“Oliver, you were outnumbered and no one else was around to come help you,” Chloe pointed out reasonably. “I was close enough to do something, so I did. You’re welcome, by the way.” She’d disguised herself in one of Bart’s extra hoodies, and she’d wrapped a scarf around the lower part of her face, both of which she now pulled off and tossed on the chair beside her desk._

_“You could have called Clark.”_

_“I did call Clark. He didn’t pick up, which I was half-expecting because he and Lois went away for the weekend,” she answered. “And we both know Bart is impossible to track down when he’s not on call. Look, I know we agreed after the rooftop Canary incident that my place was more valuable behind my computer, but – silly me – I assumed you didn’t actually want to be beaten senseless and left for dead in an alley. And in case you’ve forgotten how I spent my impressionable teen years, I’m no stranger to self-defense.”_

_She had a point and he knew it, but he was even more irritated when he saw the nasty scratch on her arm. “What the hell is that? Did one of those guys cut you?”_

_Chloe shook her head. “I cut my arm on the fire escape I bumped into. It’s the literal definition of a scratch.”_

_“Which was rusty, wasn’t it? Damn it, you probably need a tetanus shot,” he said as he leaned closer to get a better look at the wound._

_“Do you really think that after growing up in Smallville, and considering what I do in my day and night jobs, that I’m not up to date on things like preventative shots?” She raised a brow as she pulled out the first aid kit. “Honestly, Ollie, what’s wrong with you tonight?”_

_He curbed the rest of his complaints as she doctored his various cuts and abrasions. He wasn’t sure why he was so upset, really. Chloe had never been the shrinking violet type, and she was hardly a damsel in distress despite the times she’d run afoul of trouble while helping him or Clark. He could even admit that without her timely arrival in the alley, he probably wouldn’t have made it back without serious injury._

_He opened his eyes when she finished applying antiseptic to a cut on his forehead and took a deep breath. She smelled good. He took another breath when she bent her head, realizing there were two different scents – something floral and a hint of vanilla. Then she leaned over to get a towel and his attention was caught by the way her jeans outlined the curve of her hips. When she turned back to him, he immediately jerked his head to the left before she realized he’d been staring at her ass._

_Oliver stripped off his vest and body armor to allow her to check the bruising on his rib cage and immediately tensed up when her light touch elicited a physical reaction he wasn’t expecting._

_“Sorry,” she said, her tone sympathetic. She probed gently. “Does that hurt?”_

_What hurt was a little further south and he shifted uncomfortably, glad that the towel he held hid the evidence of his sudden arousal. “It’s fine.” And embarrassing – he’d been a teenager the last time so little stimulation had caused such a reaction. When she was finished, he insisted she sit and allow him to take care of the scratch on her arm. He was thinking of ways to extend the evening, maybe by ordering takeout, when her phone rang and he saw Jimmy’s name flash across her screen before she answered it._

Something had changed that night, or maybe it had been a slow change that crept up on him and finally clicked into place in those moments in Isis. He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he’d tried to let it go for the last few months and after today, he wondered if it was possible. He wondered if he even wanted to.

Jimmy was no longer an issue, but there were others. She was Lois’ cousin, and the two women were closer than most sisters. Chloe had probably gotten a blow-by-blow of his relationship with Lois after they broke up, though she’d never let on that she was privy to those details. He and Lois were long over and both were happier as friends than they’d ever been while dating, but he had to acknowledge the potential for awkwardness.

His bigger concern was the team. He wanted to bring Chloe fully into the Justice League fold and have her play a much larger role as Watchtower. She had her career of course, and he didn’t want to interfere with that, but he’d been planning to talk to Chloe after the holidays and see what they could work out. He’d purchased a building in downtown Metropolis, and for the past six months he’d been renovating it. While it would serve as a base of operations, he’d also built apartments on each floor, and there were other amenities such as an indoor lap pool and a state-of-the-art gym.

The apartments would serve as crash pads for the others when they were in town, but he’d designed the largest one with Chloe in mind. If she accepted his offer, he hoped she would also accept the apartment as part of the package. It was closer to the Daily Planet than the building where she currently lived, and it was much more secure.

All of this brought him back to his current dilemma, which was how he could make both a partnership and a romantic relationship work with Chloe. He wasn’t even sure if she would be interested in that. His track record with women was terrible – he’d moved past a lot of the behaviors which had caused him problems in the past, but facts were facts, and he’d never made a relationship work for more than a few months. Either he blew it up intentionally at some point or he walked away to keep people at arm’s length, as was the case with Lois.

Oliver knew he couldn’t start something with Chloe without looking at all of the potential pitfalls because he needed her – as a friend and as a partner. If they tried and it ended badly, it could affect the entire team. Still, there were plenty of items he could tick off in the pro column. For one thing, he wasn’t hiding anything from her. Good or bad, she pretty much knew it all. For another, she understood the cost of what they did better than most because she’d made sacrifices of her own over the years. Her relationship with Jimmy had been one such casualty. More than anyone, she could probably understand why he’d ended things with Lois when he did.

She was beautiful and he was attracted to her, but today proved what he felt went beyond attraction. They’d spent the entire day together and not once had he felt the need to put distance between them. He’d never taken anyone with him when he went to light a candle for his parents, but he’d appreciated having her there. She was supportive without being intrusive. They could talk about anything, yet their silences throughout the day had been comfortable ones.

They were both goal-oriented, driven individuals. Since their goals were so similar, he figured that was one for the plus column because they were compatible where it counted. Somehow he didn’t think sexual compatibility would be a problem – of course, he had to figure out a way to move them out of the friend zone before he could confirm that, which brought him back to wondering how she felt about him. She seemed to enjoy it when he flirted with her over the comms, but she was usually more business-like in person. There was an abstract appreciation in the way she looked at him that confirmed his attraction wasn’t one-sided, but he doubted she’d ever given it much thought or had any ideas about pursuing it. Maybe this time together would change that.

Chloe shifted against him, snuggling in closer. With the barest brush of his fingertips, Oliver smoothed her hair away from her face. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and sleep right there on the sofa, but he knew she would probably wake up at some point. She didn’t look like she’d slept well while in Boston. She needed a good night’s rest.

He eased away from her and stood before carefully gathering her in his arms. She mumbled something but didn’t wake up as he carried her to the guest suite. The bed had already been turned down. He laid her carefully on the side of the bed closest to the bathroom and pulled the duvet up, tucking it in around her so she wouldn’t get cold.

The storm had hit with a vengeance. The thick glass windows muffled the sound of the wind whistling and howling between the buildings, but Oliver could see the heavy snowfall blowing in a horizontal line past the windows. He turned on the news to get an update and learned that airports were closed throughout the northeast and were expected to remain closed for at least a couple of days. Power outages were already being reported, making him glad he’d purchased a backup generator for the shelter.

In his suite he picked up a bag that he’d been keeping on the jet in preparation for his next trip to Metropolis. He found the gift box he’d requested from the manager and wrapped Chloe’s present before putting it under the tree and going to bed.

 

* * *

 

The faint aroma of coffee woke Chloe; she stretched under the covers and rolled onto her back with a happy sigh. She was going to miss this bed with its whisper soft linens and fluffy pillows. It was the best night’s sleep she’d had in months. She didn’t recall falling asleep during the movie but she had a vague, dream-like recollection of Oliver carrying her to bed.

She lay against the pillows for a minute, enjoying the rare opportunity to be lazy. Her life had been nothing but work for so long she couldn’t remember what it felt like to relax. From the meteor-freak-of-the-week in high school to the hustle and bustle of investigative journalism in Metropolis, there was never a shortage of stories to hold her attention, and she’d been chasing those stories relentlessly since she graduated in an effort to prove herself to her editor. Add to that her work with Isis and helping Clark and Oliver, and it was no wonder she didn’t have time to sleep.

As much as she wanted to have a lie-in, the smell of freshly brewed coffee proved too much to resist. She made a quick trip to the bathroom, splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth, and then ventured from her room. Chloe peeked into the living room first. The television was on and the local news station was reporting on the storm currently raging throughout the northeast, but Oliver wasn’t there. In the kitchen she found a cup waiting beside the coffee machine, under which lay a note.

_Back soon. Breakfast will be here at nine-thirty._

Chloe glanced at the clock – that gave her about thirty minutes to shower and get dressed. She poured a cup of coffee and took it with her into the bathroom. She showered quickly, using the Guerlain products provided by the hotel. The lotion felt like liquid velvet as she smoothed it on. She applied just enough cosmetics to brighten up her naturally pale complexion but spent an extra couple of minutes on her eyes before drying her hair.

She considered the outfits hanging in the wardrobe. Thankfully she had plenty of clothes since she’d spent a week in Boston and had planned to be in Raleigh for an additional week before flying back to Metropolis. The problem was that her clothes fell into two categories – work appropriate or the comfy casual style she preferred in her downtime.

 _Casual is fine_ , she told herself. _Oliver isn’t going to dress up to hang around the hotel room. You’re not trying to impress anyone here._

She finally chose jeans and a soft jersey pullover in a flattering midnight blue shade before grabbing her empty cup and walking to the kitchen for a refill. Chloe heard noises in the dining room and found Oliver there with a room service waiter, who was setting up breakfast.

Oliver looked up as she entered. “Hey. Sleep well?”

“Very well,” she confirmed. “Where did you go so early?”

“To the gym,” he answered. “And I visited the florist downstairs.” He walked over to a side table and picked up a large floral arrangement. “Merry Christmas, Chloe.”

“Oh… Ollie, they’re beautiful,” Chloe said, surprised and touched. The vase was shaped like a gift box and had been wrapped in heavy gold paper. Red, green and gold plaid ribbons decorated the sides, and holly leaves with bright red berries were arranged along the edges. An array of winter greenery filled the box, and more than a dozen flowers – antique gold roses, snowy white lilies and a deep red flower she didn’t recognize – dotted the greenery like ornaments. She touched one of the red flowers. “What are these?”

“Tulips,” he told her. “The florist called them Midnight Magic – they’re a double bloom variety. I remembered that you like tulips.”

“Thank you,” she said. Suddenly, she felt emotional and hid her reaction by leaning in to smell the fresh greenery and lush blooms while the waiter finished laying out their breakfast. The flowers were placed on the table while they ate, and her eyes strayed to them often. She hadn't received flowers from anyone other than Oliver in over a year, and she'd never received any as exotic as this. 

After breakfast Chloe insisted on moving the arrangement to the living room. Then she went to her suite to get her laptop. When she came back, she said, “This isn’t a Christmas present, exactly, but I’ve been working on something for you.” She pulled up the design for a new type of arrow and let Oliver study it. “I sent Bart to New York to check out stories of Spiderman, and he brought back a sample of the webbing he uses.”

Oliver looked surprised. “You were able to duplicate it?”

She nodded. “It’s not exact, but it’s very close. Victor and I have been working on this design together. When the arrow hits its target, the webbing shoots out from both sides. Based on how you position the fletching, you can change the direction of the web projectiles. We can make them bigger or smaller – the possibilities are endless, really. The prototypes should be ready after the New Year. Do you like it?”

“Very much,” he said, smiling at her. “Thank you. In the spirit of not-exactly-a-Christmas-present, I have something for you, too.” He stood and walked over to the Christmas tree, where he retrieved a gift box.

Chloe bit her lip as she opened the box. A book lay on top of the red tissue paper. On the cover there was a familiar building with a distinctive green roof. “Isn’t that building in Metropolis?”

“It is. I bought it. Take a look.”

She opened the book to see building plans along with professional mock-ups which showed designs for each floor. The basement level had been turned into a garage while the ground floor was a lobby, and directly above it there was a gym, a sauna and an indoor lap pool. The remaining floors held large apartments, and the top floor appeared to be a library. The walls were lined with bookshelves from one end to the other, and there was a computer station in the center of the room.

“Ollie, what is this?” she asked curiously.

“I’m calling it Watchtower,” he said. “A base of operations for the League. The top floor looks like a library, and it is, but all of these bookcases open up – they hide servers, a med bay area where Emil can store medical supplies, extra storage compartments for equipment, and upstairs there’s an office.”

Chloe nodded as she studied the plans. “And the apartments?”

“They’re listed as executive suites for one of my shell companies, but they’re really crash pads for team members when they’re in town, which is more and more often lately. This apartment just below the tower room is yours if you want it.”

She nibbled her lip as she studied the plans for the apartment. It was much larger than her current and very tiny walk-up, and its central location meant she’d be closer to work and all of her shopping needs. But with her day job and duties at Isis, she wasn’t sure she had any more time to devote to the team at the moment.

Oliver seemed to sense the direction of her thoughts. “Chloe, I know you have a job and your work at Isis. I’m not expecting you to take this on full time. However, I do think this set-up will make League responsibilities more convenient for all of us. The security is going to be far better than what you have at Isis.”

He had a point. And she had been thinking of passing more responsibility to her office manager at Isis, which would free up more of her time. “I don’t know. The apartment seems like… it’s too much.”

“Too much for you but not the rest of the team? I’m not sure you realize how invaluable your help is, whether it’s full time or not. The only difference, really, is that you’ll be running ops from this building and when you’re done, home is just one floor down. You’re closer to work and shopping, and just think of all the work research you can do for the Planet with the use of my satellites and the Watchtower servers.”

 _Servers. Plural. He really knew her weak spots_ , she thought as she suppressed a smile. “My lease isn’t up for another six months.”

“It’ll take at least four months to finish the remodeling.” His tone indicated that he knew he was wearing her down.

She noted that the apartment had a roomy home office lined with bookshelves, and she’d have a killer city view from both the living room and her bedroom. Despite the larger size, the layout still gave it a cozy, homey feel. Pointing to the space across from her apartment, she asked, “And this?”

Oliver shrugged. “Storage, if we need it. I figured you wouldn’t want an apartment so big that it took up the entire floor, and there are enough apartments downstairs for the rest of the team.”

And a few to spare if they added more team members – something to consider with the number of vigilantes popping up around the country.

“Having a secure home base is a really good idea,” she admitted. “And you know that I want to help with the team as much as possible. I’ll think about the apartment. But when Lois wants her own floor, it’s on you.”

“Hey, she’s welcome to one of the apartments, but I seriously doubt Clark would want to live that close to the whole team. He thinks they’re too loud.”

“In his defense, I think the city takes some getting used to after all his years of barn brooding,” Chloe replied. “But you’re right. I don’t think this set-up would be ideal for him. I kind of like the idea of knowing my neighbors, though.”

She started to set the box on the table, but Oliver stopped her.

“There’s something else there,” he told her.

Chloe pulled back the red tissue paper to reveal buttery soft, green leather. Laughing, she looked at Oliver. “Looking for a literal sidekick now? I can’t imagine pulling off the green leather tights as well as you do.”

He grinned. “Funny, but no. I happened to see this in a store window when I was in Milan. I thought it would look good on you.”

She pulled the folded leather out of the box and saw that it was a jacket. When she slipped it on, the soft leather fit like a dream. “It fits perfectly, which is weird because when you’re short, tailoring is your friend.”

“I know the tailor you use in Metropolis – you stopped there to pick up a suit when we were leaving Isis one night. I asked Bart to take the jacket to them. Since it was a gift, they were happy to keep the secret.”

“It’s beautiful.” She tried not to read into the fact that Oliver had been reminded of her while on a business trip. It was his favorite color, and green leather fit with the Watchtower surprise. And while the flowers that morning were atypical for her, Oliver probably bought flowers for a lot of people.

“So what do you usually do on Christmas Day?” he asked.

Chloe took off the jacket and shrugged. “When I lived in Smallville, my dad and I spent a lot of holidays at the Kent Farm. I liked helping Martha bake cookies. Clark and I would play in the snow, and our dads would usually join in for a snow fight before dinner. Then Dad and I would take leftovers home and play board games.”

“What about since you moved to Metropolis?”

“Nothing, really. Clark is usually with Martha, Jimmy always goes home for the holidays and I haven’t seen my dad since he moved to Raleigh. I call him, and we do video chats, but it’s obviously not the same. Lois and I go out to eat if she’s in Metropolis.” It hadn’t occurred to her until just now how lonely that sounded. From Oliver’s expression, he guessed what she was thinking. His brown eyes were sympathetic, but she also realized in that moment that he understood how she felt.

“I think we’ll have to pass on the snow fights until the storm dies down, but I bet we could have the ingredients delivered if you want to make cookies. Fair warning – I’m pretty decent in the kitchen, but I’ve never made cookies.”

“I need to call Lois anyway, so I’ll ask Martha for a couple of her recipes,” Chloe said.

After hanging her new jacket in the wardrobe, she got another cup of coffee and settled on the sofa with her laptop to check her emails while watching the news on TV. A few minutes later Oliver joined her.

“There are a lot of power outages. Do you think the women and kids at the shelter are okay?” she asked.

“They have a generator and backup heat sources,” Oliver told her. “They’ll be fine. Any idea what we’ll need for the cookies?”

“Flour, baking powder, sugar, butter, eggs, vanilla, salt. We’ll need a mixer, rolling pin and cookie sheet. If they have cookie cutters and decorating tools for the icing, that would be great because half the fun is decorating them. If not then we can cut them out with a glass.”

“Okay. Why don’t you make your calls and I’ll see about getting those ingredients.”

Chloe’s first call was to Lois. “Hey, Lo. Merry Christmas.”

“It would be a lot merrier if you were here,” Lois grumbled. “Lucy and the General are barely speaking to each other because he objects to her new boyfriend’s tattoos, and Jimmy is snowed in with us until the airports open.”

“I hope you’re being nice to Jimmy and Kara,” Chloe said. “Remember – it was my idea to break our engagement.”

“I’m being nice,” Lois replied just as Clark appeared onscreen.

Clark cleared his throat. “She’s being civil, at least. Merry Christmas, Chloe. You should have let us know that you got stuck in New York. I could have come for you.”

“I didn’t want things to be awkward,” Chloe said.

“See – I told you.” Lois crossed her arms and glanced at Clark. “That is why I object to Jimmy being here. Breaking the engagement was a great idea but now that he’s getting frisky with your cousin, Chloe is shut out of her own family.”

“Lois, stop being so dramatic.” Chloe sighed, wondering how they’d found out she was stuck in New York. Lois must have texted her dad.

“Well, at least you have power. We heard half the city is blacked out. Where are you staying?” Lois asked. “The furniture looks nice.”

Chloe hesitated. Would it seem weird that she was here with Oliver? But then lying about it would make it seem weird later if they found out. “I’m at the Waldorf.”

“Since when does any airline shell out for the Waldorf?” Lois asked, surprised. “Because I know our editor didn’t.”

“I was ready to settle in at a hostel near the airport when I ran into Oliver. He insisted I take the extra room in his suite.”

“You’re staying at the Waldorf with Oliver?” Lois didn’t sound like this news made her uncomfortable. In fact, she looked positively delighted. “Well that’s cozy.”

Chloe eyed her cousin warily. “We’re in separate rooms, Lo. I have my own bathroom and everything.”

“So did you pack the satin pajama set I got you for Christmas?”

“No, I did not. I packed the Star Wars pajamas Clark gave me, and my bunny slippers.” Was Lois seriously hinting that she should make a play for her ex?

Lois muttered something about missed opportunities, and Clark coughed to cover his obvious embarrassment. Apparently that was exactly what Lois was hinting at.

Chloe glanced at her watch. “Wow, look at the time. I still have to call Dad so I’ll talk to you later. Love you.” She disconnected the video call before Lois could protest and then sent Martha a text asking for her famous sugar cookie recipe. She responded within a few minutes, wished her a happy holiday, and said to tell Oliver hello.

“Lois Loudmouth Lane,” Chloe said, exasperated.

“What?”

She glanced up to see Oliver coming from the kitchen. “Nothing, just Lois being Lois. I made the mistake of mentioning that you invited me to stay here and…” she trailed off, beginning to regret she’d brought it up.

“And?” he prompted. “She can’t possibly be upset about it.”

She sighed. “The opposite, actually. It sounded like she was… matchmaking.”

“Ah, I see.” Oliver grinned. “Well, there are far worse things than being linked to a brainy blonde beauty who enjoys being bossy on comms.”

“I’m bossy?” Okay, she knew she was, but it was the first time Oliver had ever called her on it.

He raised a knowing brow. “Just a little. One of your more endearing qualities.”

She wasn’t imagining the flirtatious tone. She tilted her head and studied him for a moment. “And it doesn’t bother you that Lois thinks – or hopes - something is going on here?”

Oliver strolled casually across the room until he was standing in front of her. Bending down, he murmured, “Not in the least.”

Chloe swallowed hard as her heart rate sped up. Well, then. He was definitely flirting with her. It was always fun to banter over the comms, but up close and personal, it was a whole new ball game. He was smiling at her now, and there was something like a challenge in his eyes. Teasing, but a challenge nonetheless.

Before she could properly process the last few minutes and figure out how to proceed, there was a knock at the door.

“Our cookie supplies,” Oliver said as he took a step back. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

 _Cookies, Chloe_. She shook her head and pulled up the recipe Martha had sent. _Concentrate on the cookies._

**A/N – Getting back to updating. Sorry it took so long! I had a busy end of semester, but I’m on vacation. Now that I’ve had an opportunity to decompress, I’m back to writing and editing. My classes don’t start until September, so I should have time to work on my Chlollie stories. Hope y’all are having a great summer!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chloe watched the dough gradually come together in the mixing bowl as Oliver added the dry ingredients in small increments.

“So why can’t we just mix it all at the same time?” he asked as he tipped his measuring cup again.

“I had the same idea when I was fourteen,” she said, smiling at the memory. Martha had left her and Clark alone for a few minutes to finish the dough and returned to flour coating every surface within feet of their cookie workstation. “I dumped it in before Clark could stop me.”

“I’m sensing it was a bad idea.”

“Let’s just say it took a lot longer to clean up the kitchen than it did to make the cookies.”

Oliver added the last bit of the flour mixture and Chloe watched the dough carefully for another minute. “Okay, I think that’s it. Now we need to let the dough rest in the refrigerator.”

Chloe covered the bowl, placed it in the refrigerator and began to clean up. She washed and rinsed the items they’d used before passing them to Oliver to dry and set aside for later, when they would mix the icing. She watched him while they worked, surprised by how comfortable this felt, and by how quickly they’d settled into a routine. Something so domestic should have felt odd and yet, somehow, it was oddly familiar. She passed him the last dish, wondering if their team routines and occasional takeout dinners together could account for that familiarity.

When he turned back to her, he smiled. “You have a little flour on your nose.”

Chloe brushed her fingers across the tip of her nose. “There?”

He shook his head and reached for her hand, pulling her closer. She stood, motionless, scarcely daring to breathe as he cupped the side of her face and brushed his thumb over her nose and across her cheek. Her throat felt dry and her pulse raced with the awareness that sprang up between them.

Oliver stroked her cheek once more before releasing her. “So I was thinking we could go downstairs for dinner this evening. There’s a Christmas buffet, and there will be a pianist playing. It sounds festive.”

Her mind felt fuzzy. “Dinner?” He was smiling at her again, which did nothing to help her concentrate on the conversation. “I mean, yes. The buffet sounds good.”

Chloe stubbornly refused to acknowledge the way her heart fluttered in response to his touch. _Get a grip_ , she reprimanded herself. She’d always prided herself on a certain level of immunity to Oliver’s charm. Maybe she wasn’t quite as immune as she’d thought, but she didn’t have to let him know it.

“I’m just going to try calling my dad again,” she finally said.

“If you’re getting connection interference, try using my satellite hookup,” he told her.

“Thanks,” She walked into the living room where she’d left her laptop set up. The storm seemed to have died down a little, and she found the signal had improved as well.

When the call connected and her dad appeared on the screen, she smiled. “Hi Dad.”

His expression was one of relief. “I know you said you were fine, but we’ve been following the news and New York has been hit pretty hard with the blackouts.”

“I’m fine, Dad. As you can see, we have power here.”

“We,” he said. “Lois mentioned you’re staying at the Waldorf with Oliver Queen.”

He sounded cautiously curious, probably because she hadn’t encouraged questions about her life in recent years.

“You know, I think Lois missed her calling as the town crier,” Chloe replied, exasperated. “But yes, I saw Oliver at the airport after flights were canceled. Since we’re both stuck here, he invited me to stay with him. We’re in the Presidential Suite – I actually sat in President Kennedy’s rocking chair this morning.”

Her dad was a history buff, so she thought he would show some interest in the historical elements of the Waldorf’s Presidential Suite. She was right, and they spent a few minutes talking about that before he was joined by her stepmother, Charlotte, and her daughters Anna and Brit.

“You know, I met a little girl a few years younger than you yesterday, and her name was also Anna,” Chloe told the ten-year-old girl. Brit was busy with her phone until her mom plucked it from her hands, ignoring the teenager’s protests.

Chloe smiled at the scene. It was happy, domestic. She was glad that her dad had found that again, but she couldn’t help feeling a pang of loss for what she sometimes wondered if she’d ever have. She glanced up when she heard Oliver enter the room.

Something of what she was feeling must have shown on her face because he stopped and asked, “Everything okay?”

She nodded. He was wearing black track pants and a white cotton tank top. He paused to slip the matching black jacket on, zipping it halfway. “Going to the gym?”

“Yeah. I figured I have time to get in a workout before my next lesson in baking,” he answered with a grin.

“We’re making Martha’s famous sugar cookies,” she told her dad. Motioning to Oliver, she waited for him to join her on the sofa. “Dad, this is Oliver Queen. Oliver, my dad, Gabe Sullivan.”

Oliver nodded at Gabe. “It’s nice to meet you sir.”

“You too, Oliver.”

Gabe sounded a bit reserved. Considering her track record with billionaires, she supposed that was fair. More amusing was how fast Brit suddenly stopped pouting and began paying closer attention to the conversation.

Even Anna seemed interested as she suddenly asked, “Are you Chloe’s boyfriend? I thought she was getting married but then Gabe said she wasn’t.”

Charlotte placed her hand over Anna’s mouth. “And I think that’s our cue, girls. Come on, I need help in the kitchen.” She cast an apologetic look at Chloe as she herded them out of the living room.

“Sorry about that,” Gabe said. “Lucy mentioned your engagement to the General. I guess she must have heard it from Lois.”

She bit her lip. “I was going to tell you but… it didn’t work out and I guess part of me knew it wasn’t working because I didn’t tell a lot of people. Jimmy and I broke up months ago.” She felt Oliver’s hand on her shoulder, a silent show of support.

“I’ll just leave you two to catch up,” Oliver said quietly. “Come and get me when you’re ready to start on the cookies again.”

Chloe smiled and nodded, watching him as he left the room. Moments later she heard the door open and shut in the entry hall.

“So you and Oliver are friends?” Gabe asked.

“Yeah, we are. I do some freelance work for him too, mostly security software programs.”

“I thought that was just a hobby, or a tool you used to get information for your stories.”

“Mostly it is, but a friend of mine works at Queen Industries in IT Security. When Oliver learned that I’m good with computers, he asked me to help out.” It wasn’t the complete truth, but it wasn’t a lie. Maybe she just needed to work harder at giving him enough truths to maintain their connection.  

Gabe mulled that over for a moment before changing the subject. He asked about the conference she’d covered, and he told her about his work and the new house he and Charlotte had just bought together. “We have a guest room, Chloe. Charlotte’s looking forward to getting to know you. We both want you to know that you’re always welcome.”

“I’m still coming. After the airport opens again, I mean. I may not be able to stay long because I have to be back at work on the third, but I’d still like to see you.”

“I’d like that, Chloe.”

After she finished her call, she went to her bedroom and looked through her clothes to find something to wear that evening. She’d noticed that she and Oliver were underdressed for the restaurant when they had brunch the day before, though no one would dare call Oliver Queen out on that.

She had a couple of dresses that worked for evening and doubled for the office when paired with a fitted blazer. She eyed them critically before discarding them as too boring. She ignored the little voice that said it didn’t matter if they were boring since this wasn’t a date.

She paused when she saw the antique gold silk blouse she thought must have ended up in her suitcase by mistake when Lois was helping her pack. She hadn’t worn it because it was too cold, but she pulled it out now to take a closer look. Vintage inspired, it had delicate ruffled details along the cap sleeves and the deep v-neck, which ended in a row of tiny hook buttons that controlled the amount of cleavage left on display. The tightly fitted, ruched waist had a hidden side zipper, so it fit perfectly under her black skirt when she wore it to the office.

Chloe pulled out a slim black skirt with a hemline that fell just above her knee. While perfectly demure from the front, the slit in the back exposed a flash of leg with each step. It was the skirt she sometimes wore when she scored a major headline because she felt good wearing it.

Next she found her leopard heels, nodding when she had all three pieces together. She added a wide, black leather belt, retrieved a pair of tasteful black fishnet stockings from her suitcase and then went back to the wardrobe to consider her jacket choices. She nibbled her lip as she held up a black blazer, which seemed too office professional for a Christmas dinner.

She was hanging it up in the wardrobe when she saw the green leather jacket. She slipped the gold blouse underneath the jacket and had to admit the contrast of delicate and edgy worked. She still wouldn’t fit in with the cocktail dress crowd, but she’d look good. She liked the idea of wearing it for the first time while she was with Oliver.

Since it was almost time to get the cookie dough out of the fridge, she decided to go down to the gym and see if Oliver was finished with his workout. She smiled at the attendant as she entered the elevator, watching him press the button for the nineteenth floor where the gym was located.

The fitness center was large and well-appointed with racks of weights and various exercise machines. According to the brochure, this center was only available for Towers guests, and she’d somehow expected it to look different from a normal gym. She supposed a gym was a gym no matter how much money you had, though she noticed a personal trainer working with one of the guests to her left.

Chloe tried to maintain her cool as she spotted Oliver doing pull-ups on a bar in front of the back mirror. He’d discarded his jacket but still wore the white tank top, and not for the first time she thought it should be illegal for any man to look that good covered in sweat. Rather than interrupt him, she sat on one of the benches and watched him – up, down, up, down.

The play of muscles flexing, the sheen of sweat on his shoulders, the bulge of his biceps - they all combined to do things to her body she wasn't sure she'd ever felt before. Her breasts felt heavy and tight and her thighs were clenching rhythmically in time to his steady up and down motion, which, when she realized it, made her face flame with a combination of arousal and embarrassment. This was crazy.   
  
He dropped to the floor, stripped off his soaked tank top and reached for his towel, rubbing it across his face before carelessly swiping it over his chest and neck. He grabbed his jacket and water bottle and walked over to join her. "Cookie time?"   
  
Chloe was transfixed by the single drop of moisture traversing his chest; it followed his sternum down, changing direction to roll over his perfectly etched abdominal muscles before disappearing into the waist band of his pants. His scent was enticingly male - some combination of soap and earthy musk which she decided must be from his workout. Whatever it was, she needed to properly categorize all of her feminine responses and tuck them away because this was Ollie, and while she appreciated the view now, much like she had in the past, this was a never-gonna-happen situation.

Unfortunately, her brain seemed to be the only part of her body that had gotten the memo.   
  
"Chloe?"   
  
She looked up and felt flushed all over again when she saw the grin spreading across his face. God what was he doing to her? Clearly he’d noticed her blatant ogling. She expected him to tease her about it but instead he slipped on his jacket and zipped it up.

“Do I have time for a shower before we bake the cookies?” he asked.

Chloe jumped when he placed his hand on her waist to guide her out of the fitness center. “That’s fine. I’ll go ahead and take the dough out while you’re in the shower.” When her errant libido conjured images of Oliver in the shower, water sluicing down his nude form, she flushed again.

The elevator ride up to their suite seemed to take a lifetime, and Oliver was standing far closer to her than he usually did. She felt hyper aware of him as her hormones picked up on his scent and the heat of his body next to hers.

He touched her arm and when their eyes met, it took her a few seconds to realize he had said something. “What?”

“What time do you want to go down for dinner?”

She cleared her throat. “Oh.” She mentally calculated how much time they’d need for the cookies, adding in time for her to have a bath and get ready. Then she lost her entire train of thought when he reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, gentle fingers grazing the side of her neck and leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

Fire. That’s what it felt like every time he touched her, as if his fingers were hardwired into her central nervous system. When the hell did that happen? He’d touched her before and she’d never responded like a hormonal teenager, so what had changed?

She was startled from her thoughts when the elevator doors opened. Wordlessly, she followed Oliver into their suite.

In the living room, he turned to her. “So dinner? I want to call and make sure they reserve a good booth for us.”

Right. Dinner. “How about seven?”

“Seven it is. I’ll meet you in the kitchen in ten minutes.”

He disappeared down the hallway. Chloe sat on the sofa and leaned her head back, breathing deeply as she forced her brain to think of anything besides wet, naked Oliver.

* * *

 

Oliver smiled as he watched Chloe devote her full concentration to the cookie she was decorating. Now that the green icing they’d spread on the Christmas tree cookies had set up a little, they were adding ribbons of colored icing and small, ornament shaped sprinkles. They’d already finished the Santa cookies, the snowmen, candy canes and the ornament shapes, so this was the last batch.

Chloe’s small fingers worked well with the tiny sprinkles as she placed them just so on the trees, a yellow star gracing the top of each one. “I’m kind of surprised they had all of these decorating supplies.”

“I’m not,” Oliver said. “I’m sure it’s not the first time a guest has asked for something like this during the holidays, and they pride themselves on being able to supply whatever guests ask for.”

“There,” Chloe said as she finished the last cookie. Glancing over at his plate, she asked, “All done?”

“All done. So when do we get to eat these cookies we spent hours on?” He didn’t usually eat cookies, but he was making an exception after all of the work he’d done.

“In keeping with Martha’s tradition, we have one as soon as we finish.” She walked over to the refrigerator and got out the milk, poured two small glasses and passed one to him. “So which one do you want to try?”

“I think I want one of those Christmas tree cookies you decorated so meticulously,” he said with a grin. “I never realized the military precision it required.”

She laughed. “Yeah, okay. Clark and Lois used to tease me about that, too, so I’m used to it.”

“It’s cute, though,” he said as he picked up one of the Christmas tree cookies. “Hey Chloe?”

“Yeah?” She pursed her lips before choosing one of the Santa cookies.

He waited for her to look at him. “Thank you. For being here with me, and for making it fun. I’ve never really had that before.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, smiling at him. “Thanks for not leaving me at the airport, even when I insisted I was fine.”

“For the record, there is no circumstance where I’d be okay with leaving you stranded at an airport. It was kind of insulting that you thought I would.”

“I’m sorry. I figured you’d have… company,” she said. “Like that model you were dating a few months ago.”

Oliver leaned against the counter and studied her. He wasn’t sure if she was even aware of the unspoken question in her words. He started to ask her which model she was talking about but decided that reminding her of his past playboy antics might not be in his best interests at the moment. “As you know, most of the blurbs and photos in the society pages are publicity ops. My dates hardly qualify as dates.”

She raised a brow but didn’t challenge him. Instead, she held up her cookie. “Ready?”

Oliver took a bite of his cookie and was surprised by how much he liked it. It was sweet but not too much – certainly not as much as he’d expected with all the icing. “Wow, these are really good. I don’t think I’ve ever had a soft cookie before.”

“Martha’s recipes are amazing, no matter what she’s cooking,” Chloe said.

When they finished their cookies and milk, Oliver glanced at the clock. “Why don’t I clean up while you go get ready?”

Chloe hesitated. “It doesn’t seem fair to leave you with the cleanup.”

Oliver leaned around her to grab a hand towel and fought a smile when he heard her breath catch. One of his questions had received a definitive answer today – whether or not Chloe was as attracted to him as he was to her. She still seemed taken off guard by it, as if it had snuck up on her the same way it had on him back in Isis that night. But it was real, and unless he was mistaken, she was curious enough not to run away from it.

He leaned away from her and wiped his hands on the towel. “Tell you what – you save me a dance later and we’ll call it even.”

She was silent, and he could practically see the gears turning in her head. She was picking up on the unspoken intent behind his flirtatiousness because he wasn’t bothering to hide it anymore. This time together was an opportunity, one that he might never have again. They were both busy people with hectic schedules and slightly cynical views of happily-ever-after. But here, snowed in together, those rough edges had softened. They were both just a little more vulnerable.

“Is this like a date? Tonight, I mean.”

Chloe looked just as surprised by her question as he was which made him smile again. “What if it were? Would you be okay with that?”

After another considering pause, she nodded. “Yes.”

“Then yes, Chloe,” he said softly. “This is exactly like a date.”

Her answering smile told him that finally they were on the same page. He whistled as he cleaned up the kitchen and placed foil over the plates of cookies. Then he went to get ready. Since he doubted that Chloe had packed any cocktail dresses for the conference, he chose one of his business suits for dinner.

Oliver was waiting in the living room when Chloe came down the hallway. Her hair, usually pin straight and smooth, fell in soft waves around face. Her smoky eyes looked more mysterious, their green shade enhanced, and her lips were berry stained and inviting.

She wore a gold silk blouse with a black skirt and a leather belt which defined her small waist. Ruffles at the cap sleeves and along the plunging neckline of her blouse made her look soft and feminine. Classic, small print fishnets and saucy leopard heels completed her vintage siren look. If this was the kind of thing she wore to the office, he was surprised the men in the bullpen got any work done.

“Wow,” he said. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

He took the green leather jacket from her and helped her slip it on. Then he offered his arm, feeling a surge of affection for her as she tucked her arm through his. Even in heels she was petite, but she fit against his side perfectly.

Downstairs they were led to the best booth in the restaurant. It offered a little privacy while still allowing them to see the pianist, who was playing jaunty Christmas tunes. Oliver saw a number of people he knew but didn’t stop to talk to anyone because he wanted tonight to be about the two of them – just Chloe and Oliver. It was one date, but he had a lot riding on it. He wanted to make it perfect for her.

* * *

 

Chloe rarely thought about just how wealthy Oliver was. In the office he was the quintessential businessman; the rest of the time he was simply Ollie, her friend, or Green Arrow, her partner in crime fighting. Sure, she had access to many of his accounts, so she had a rough idea of his net worth because they often discussed how and where to funnel money for their various projects.

He’d given her a lot of autonomy in how to manage his money. There were the funds necessary to run the League, of course, as well as his generous donations to ISIS and various charities he’d asked her to look into. She'd been on his jet once, and she had seen him at a couple of black tie social events she covered for the paper. However, she'd never really seen him surrounded by the trappings of his wealth until now.  This was the environment in which he'd grown up. He didn't even blink at the extravagant Waldorf hotel, and he expected a certain level of service. 

It was the type of thing that usually made her feel a little out of her depth but with Ollie, she simply didn’t. It was clear that he was focused on their time together and making sure she was comfortable. It had begun with him asking the hotel staff to decorate their suite and continued with all of the small things – the chocolate and fruit he’d requested for her, staying in to watch Christmas movies, the beautiful bouquet of flowers he’d picked out, and his willingness to indulge her by spending most of the day baking and decorating Christmas cookies.

By his own admission he didn’t really do Christmas, but he seemed to be enjoying himself. She’d never have expected him to adapt so well to frivolous downtime that didn’t involve a nightclub or other social event. She was beginning to suspect she’d underestimated him.

As they’d done at brunch the day before, they sat closely together in the booth, talking and sharing food. Chloe felt flushed again. Maybe it was the wine, but she thought it was mostly Oliver and the way he was looking at her. She felt like pinching herself to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep at the airport and dreamed up this perfect holiday.

Eventually their private bubble was invaded by a business associate of Oliver’s, an elderly man named Tate Carson. He had to be pushing eighty and walked with an ornate oak cane, but the woman hanging on his arm, whom Chloe had assumed was his granddaughter, turned out to be his latest trophy wife, Liana. She was tall, voluptuous, and had long red hair that reminded Chloe of ads for hair color or pricey conditioner. In fact, the longer they talked, Chloe thought she actually did remember her from a hair commercial.

When Tate toddled away to talk to another friend, Oliver said, “Still spry and active, I see.”

Liana rolled her eyes. “That old goat is going to outlive us all. It’s not what I had in mind, but at least he’s fun and not a homebody.” With a little wave of her fingers, she headed for the wine bar.

Chloe raised her brows at Oliver, who shrugged and said, “Their arrangement is no secret. They both get what they want out of it.”

“I guess I just can’t imagine being so mercenary about something like marriage.” And intimacy, she thought with a small shudder.

“Welcome to my world.”

She remembered what he said before about being lonely. She thought she could understand that now because most of his relationships had been casual at best and at worst, they were as superficial as Tate and Liana because women were using him to achieve a lifestyle they desired. Tentatively, she reached for his hand, gratified when he linked their fingers together.  
  
“Sometimes I get tired of the charade,” he said. “The exhausting habit of always giving the world the Oliver Queen they expect to see which, depending on the company, is either a charming and entertaining playboy or a successful businessman. It's a lot of work to give people that guy instead of just being myself.”

Chloe nodded. “I understand that charade, or at least a little. When I was with Jimmy I tried to show him my best side to make up for lying and being generally unavailable. But he wasn't stupid; he knew, deep down, he wasn't getting all of me, and the more other people saw us as a couple, the less we saw it, or even felt it. I was the one who pulled the pin in the end, but I think we were both relieved it was over.”  
  
“It's that fantasy element, I guess - the one that a relationship starts out in. But you have to grow past it or you'll never be prepared for all of the day-to-day struggles. I think what makes a relationship real is when both people are fully present for the good and the bad, and they look out for each other.”

As he met her eyes, Chloe realized he was talking about them. About what he thought they could be as a couple instead of just friends and partners. There was a part of her that wanted it so badly it scared her because she knew it was risky. It could jeopardize what they’d worked to build together. But it could also be amazing and now that she’d acknowledged that potential, she couldn’t dismiss it.  
  
They danced and then joined a group of Oliver’s acquaintances who waved them over. Chloe found herself watching Oliver as he talked, acutely conscious of his arm around her and his hand on her waist. When he stepped away to shake someone's hand, she was equally conscious of the physical distance between them - the sudden absence of his body beside hers felt wrong.   
  
It's just Oliver, she told herself. They were Chloe and Oliver, the same two people they'd always been. Teammates. Partners. Friends. Only that wasn't precisely true anymore and she knew it. Yes, they were the same two people they’d been a day ago, or a week ago, but together they were something different. They were like puzzle pieces, turning and rearranging themselves to form a whole that was new and exciting.

Back in their suite they lingered in the foyer, both unwilling to break the spell of the evening by going to their separate rooms. When Oliver glanced up, she followed his gaze to see a bundle of mistletoe in the doorway between the foyer and the living room.

“Well look at that,” Oliver said as he smiled down at her.

Chloe laughed. “I don’t remember seeing that yesterday.”

“Santa must have left it,” he told her. “We probably shouldn’t let it go to waste. It’s tradition, after all.”

“Tradition, huh?” Mistletoe or no mistletoe, she wanted to kiss him. She’d been thinking about it all night, and now that the opportunity was presenting itself, she was going to indulge in a little wish fulfillment.

The first touch of his lips against hers was what she imagined kissing Oliver would be like. His lips were soft and warm, and they moved against hers with practiced ease and none of the awkwardness she’d always associated with first kisses. But when he pulled her closer – when the lines of her body melted into his and the kisses grew more urgent – it was more like being swept away by a tsunami.

Oliver was the one to pull back first, his hands gentle as they moved up and down her arms in a soothing gesture. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get carried away like that.”

Chloe took a shaky breath, her hands still resting against his chest. Her fingers itched to go exploring as she recalled exactly how good he looked without a shirt on, but she knew he was right. They needed to slow down. “I’m pretty sure I was an equal participant in that little mistletoe experiment, so you don’t need to apologize.”

He swept her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. “Thank you for tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Chloe's brain was still a little fuzzy as she walked to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. In the bathroom she was shocked by the woman who stared back at her with wide eyes, flushed cheeks and lips still swollen from his kisses. This was what Oliver had seen on her face – pure, naked longing.

She brushed her fingers across her lips and then busied herself running a bath because she needed time to wind down before she could sleep. She also needed to think about where they went from here.

**A/N: Sorry for my long hiatus. I’m working 50-60 hour weeks at my university this year because I took an admin position, but I’m hoping things slow down now that the initial mad rush of the beginning of the term is over. One reason I end up taking long hiatuses is that I don’t usually write or edit unless I have a large block of time (a few hours) to devote to it. Somehow I don’t see that happening this year, so I’m going to try writing or editing for one hour a day and see if that works any better.**

**We have one more chapter before this story is over. Thanks for sticking with me if you’re still reading!**


End file.
